Author's Notes: This fic is a result of insomnia. The idea sprouted from the message board of 'SEED Monthly'. Sorry, but Heine's not in this. The timeline is set before Gundam SEED. This is a humor fic, and I apologize if Yzak seems a bit freaky. This is a one-shot, mind you.

Thanks to Lia lostsmile for talking me out of abandoning this idea.


Warning: Curses up ahead. Oh, come on. It's -Yzak- we're talking about.


Disclaimer: What exactly does the word 'fanfiction' mean to you?



Anger Management



There were very little things that could make Yzak Joule pissed off. Well, you might be raising your eyebrows at that, but it's true! His face wasn't in a perpetual scowl, his eyebrows weren't always scrunched together, his voice wasn't always bordering between extremely irritated and extremely annoyed. He was a peaceful person all throughout.

It was true! It wasn't his fault that he was constantly surrounded by the LITTLE things that annoyed him. It wasn't his fault that his line of work put him in contact with the LITTLE things that irritated him on a day to day basis.

So, imagine his shock, when he got called into Commander Rau Le Creuset's office and was given a letter informing him that because of that LITTLE locker-bashing-fist-punching-butt-kicking-furniture-destroying incident with one Athrun Zala, he was being ordered by the higher echelons to attend Anger Management Classes.

After all those years of expressing his anger towards Athrun by destroying inanimate and not-so-inanimate objects, they only noticed it just now? Where have they been all those friggin' goddamn years? Were they nuts? Didn't they realize that it boosted the morale of their team? The secret behind the success of the Le Creuset Team and their incredible teamwork lay on his and Athrun's bickering!

He didn't know why (maybe the author just wanted to let the readers know what the letter said) but he opened the crumpled up paper in his fist. It was a miracle it was still in one piece after all the abuse that it had taken.


Productive Location Ally on Nexus Technology

Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty

Dear Mr. Yzak Joule,

Please be informed that due to your recent show of brash behavior and violent tendencies, you have been advised (read: ordered) by the ZAFT Disciplinary Committee to attend Anger Management classes. Failure to do so would result to demotion and re-assignment to kitchen duties in the Vesalius.

You are requested to report at the Hans Eysenck Psychotherapeutic Center on October City, Sector Eight this coming Thursday at 0900. Commander Rau Le Creuset would be more than willing to accommodate any inquiries on your part.

Have a nice day.

Glory to ZAFT!

- Heydrich Worshenhaft


Yzak felt his left eye twitch at the final line.

'Have a nice day.'

The phrase echoed and echoed into his head.

Were they fucking mocking him? How the hell was he supposed to 'have a nice day' after receiving that letter? He could always ditch it and scowl at it, but the consequences were too horrendous to even think about. It was either Anger Management or go peel potatoes for the rest of the whole freaking war while Athrun showed off to the whole PLANTs. Anger Management? What the hell was wrong with these people? He didn't have a fucking problem dealing with his goddamn anger!

And to further prove his point, he violently kicked the door to his room.


Rusty gave him a mock-salute. "Hope you actually learn something there, Yzak."

"I guess this is it, Yzak." Nicol smiled at him.

Miguel smirked. "I'll make sure Athrun doesn't show off too much."

"Don't forget your blankie, Yzak," Dearka managed to blurt out in between guffaws, while clapping Yzak on the back.

Yzak was fuming and was inwardly contemplating if murdering his teammates would worsen his punishment. After concluding that it would, he scowled and violently brushed Dearka's hands off of him. He grabbed his suitcase and was about to enter the mini-shuttle when the angst-factory himself entered the hangar.

Athrun gave Yzak a tight smile and offered his right hand in a handshake.

Yzak gave him one of his patented death glares. "Cut the crap, Zala. Commander Le Creuset isn't here. There's no need for you to show off." If he could, he would stomp all the way to the psychotherapeutic center, but the zero-gravity was proving to be a nuisance. So, he opted to float towards the side-hatch door.

If his assumptions were correct, Athrun should be going to Anger Management as well, seeing that he was also part of the so-called brawl. But when he brought it up to the commander, Le Creuset just sneered at him and told him that Athrun had "other pressing matters to attend to".

Pressing matters, his ass. Athrun just wormed his way out of the punishment obviously because of his father – none other than ZAFT's Head himself, Patrick Zala. His grip on the suitcase's handle was so tight that he was surprised it hadn't snapped yet.

The hairs on Yzak's neck stood up as he felt himself being stared at. The green-coats that were supposed to accompany him shrank back in fear as he averted his gaze to them. 'Being stared at' belonged to Yzak's big no-no list, and so, he snarled at them. "The hell are you looking at?"

After one final scowl, he finally entered the shuttle and slammed the door on his teammates' downright irritating faces. Yzak threw his suitcase on the nearest available seat and patiently (yeah, right) awaited his doom.


"You wake him up."

"No, you do!"

"Okay, let's settle this with rock-paper-scissors. Deal?"


"Rock." "Scissors."

"Why, you! Cheater!"

"Would the two of you friggin' shut up!" Yzak yelled as soon as he opened his eyes. Really, did he have a contagious disease that everyone was freakin' scared to even wake him up? He ran a hand through his hair as a make-shift comb. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"W-we w-will b-be a-arriving i-in f-five m-minutes," scissor-guy stuttered. He was literally trembling that Yzak was surprised he hadn't wet his pants yet. Rock-guy barely managed a nod; he was too busy fiddling with his thumbs.

After Yzak had greeted them with the usual snarl, the two soldiers immediately clammed up and scampered away, seeing that they already did their appointed jobs. Yzak stared after their backs. "Is my face that scary?" he muttered dryly.

Five minutes to doom…and counting.

Yzak blew at his bangs in frustration. He wasn't one to fall asleep during long journeys, but he couldn't help it. Not after what he'd been through, anyway. He called up his mother as soon as the shuttle took off, but what did he get? An earful, that's what. He didn't even know his mother could shriek; let alone, reach such a high pitch. Either way, he swore to see an ear specialist as soon as he got the chance.

God, his ears still hurt; it was a surprise it wasn't bleeding yet.

Commander Le Creuset told him that he needed to fill 120 hours in the psychotherapeutic center – meaning that he would be spending a grand total of five days in there. Oh, joy. 120 hours of calming himself, taking deep breaths, counting from one to one hundred, meditation, no junk food, no phone calls, no angry out-bursts, no screaming his head off, no furniture-destroying, no locker-punching, no Athrun-bashing, no door-kicking…

In short, 120 hours of hell.

And it started right about…

"Attention passengers, we have reached October Eight."



Day One


After a quick tour of the facilities, he and the rest of his 'class-anger-mates' were immediately whisked away into the conference hall where a red-haired, bespectacled, freckled lady was waiting for them.

"Welcome to Anger Management class," the sickeningly sweet and calm voice of the counselor greeted them with a serene smile on her face. "My name is Martha Fischer and for the next five days, I will be teaching you how to control your emotions." She gave the occupants of the room an encouraging smile each. "Why don't we introduce ourselves one by one, hm? Say your name and tell us why you're here. Remember, the first step is acknowledging that you have a problem."

They were all seated in a circular formation and the one on Martha's right immediately stood up. "Hi, everyone! My name is Georgina Hayfield!" she announced perkily. With her blonde hair up in ridiculous pigtails, she could easily pass for a cheerleader. "You can, like, call me Georgie!" she giggled. "You won't believe it, but I'm actually here for, like, Anger Management!"

And with the way she talked, she could easily pass for an airhead.

'Like, what a surprise,' Yzak thought sarcastically. Everyone, with the possible exception of Martha, was here for Anger Management. Really saying it aloud was a total waste of spit. With that, Yzak concluded that Martha was as absurd as she looked.

The one sitting next to 'Georgie' (a stupid nickname, in Yzak's humble opinion), a brown-haired man in his mid-twenties, stood up rather shakily and flashed them an anxious smile. "H-hello," he stammered. "I-I'm Pieter Thembisile." He laughed nervously. "I'm h-here to l-learn how to c-control my t-temper."

"What a, like, coincidence!" 'Georgie' exclaimed giddily.

Yzak watched as the others followed suit and introduced themselves, each one as dim-witted as the one before them. Some looked like they didn't even have an idea what they were there for. Some looked like they didn't even need Anger Management (take Timid Thembisile and Happy Hayfield, for example).

Yzak rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it all. It was like being back in preparatory school where all the teachers were oozing with sweetness and serenity. Others were quickly won over by their supposed 'charming' and 'gentle' nature, instantly opening up to them and revealing all their deepest darkest secrets. Frankly, they made him sick.

Before he knew it, it was his turn to make a fool out of himself. 'Not a fucking chance in hell,' he thought mulishly. He crossed his arms and scowled. "Yzak Joule," he muttered simply. Martha gave him a look that clearly said he should divulge more but he ignored it.

"Why are you here, Yzak?" Martha asked pleasantly – yet pointedly so.

Yzak smiled sardonically. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm here for Anger Management." His smile was replaced with a snarl. "Like everyone else in this damn room!"

Their reactions were priceless. Martha gasped. Pieter fell from his chair. The cheery smile was wiped off of Georgina's equally cheery face. The others either frowned at him or stared at him in awe. When Martha finally managed to gain her composure, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "Yzak, you clearly have some issues with controlling your temper."

Yzak sneered. "Obviously." Honestly, why would he be there wasting his time if he didn't have a problem? "Look, could we get started? I have an otolaryngology appointment to go to."

"Let's talk, Yzak," Martha said with a flip of her hair. "What makes you angry?"

"The list is pretty long," Yzak answered mockingly. "Just to give you an idea, it's a tie between stupidity and Athrun Zala for number one." He gave her a pointed look. "And I think I've found another contender. But it's pretty debatable since the contender – " another pointed look " – can easily fall under 'stupidity'."

The sound of crickets chirping could be heard in the background as the others stared in shock/awe/disbelief at Yzak.

Martha gave him a tight smile and finally broke the silence. "I think you need some time-out, Yzak."


Day Two


In the whiteboard, the word 'ANGER' was written in big, bold letters. "Remember this: with 'anger' comes 'danger'." And then, Martha proceeded to put a big letter 'D' in front of the previously written word.

Georgie clapped her hands in awe. "Oh, that's so, like, true!" She took a deep breath. "That is, like, totally dead-on."

"Would you like to share your story, Georgie?"

Yzak scoffed. 'The girl is practically foaming at the mouth and she asks him if she would like to gossip? Salutations to you, bitch, for stating out the obvious.'

Just as Yzak predicted, the perky pest nodded animatedly and immediately plunged on. "Like, I got angry at my best friend because she, like, stole my boyfriend from me." Her voice broke dramatically. "Sad, I know! Anyway, I got, like, mad at that bitch and, like, clawed her face! And it, like, resulted to my nail getting broken." She wiggled the finger of her right hand in front of all of them to see. "Look."

The sound of crickets chirping in the background could be heard once more.

Until a sarcastic voice broke it, that is. "That's the most moronic thing I've ever heard of! So getting angry is a danger to your nails! Big deal!"

"What did you, like, just say?" Georgie hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Are you so much of an air-headed bimbo that simple words can't get through your thick hair?"

"Now, Georgie, don't let him provoke you!" Martha warned anxiously. She was already standing up and mentally steeling herself for what was sure to come.

The cheerleader glared at Yzak…and burst into tears. "He said my hair was, like, thick!" she wailed. "And I, like, thought you were cute!" Then, she snarled and flexed her other unbroken and sharp claws, er, fingernails. "Like, say goodbye to your baby smooth skin, pretty boy!"

Martha was waving her hands frantically, trying to prevent the inevitable fight. The others quickly stepped out of the way, not wanting to get in between the now-rabid girl and the silver-haired asshole.

Georgie lunged at him and Yzak, with his soldier-quick reflexes, ducked out of the way. It was just too bad that behind where Yzak sat, was a concrete wall three feet thick.

Needless to say, Yzak got 'time-out' once more.

And Georgie, like, broke her nose.

Yep. With 'anger' comes 'danger'.

'Way for stating the obvious, bitch.'


Day Three


Yzak couldn't friggin' believe it, but he was actually having fun at the psychotherapeutic center. Who ever said that Anger Management was a pain-in-the-ass? It turned out not as the perfect punishment that he had thought it to be, but the perfect vacation! Yzak had to give the head honchos of ZAFT some credit. Only two days in the psychotherapeutic center and he felt like a million Earth dollars! The wrinkles on his forehead diminished, and his hair was practically glowing! He was having the time of his life annoying the heck out of Martha. It served as the perfect outlet for his frustrations.

And, the best part of it all was that Athrun wasn't there to bust his chops.

"Now that we know what makes us angry, how do we usually react when we get angry?" Martha asked, still sickeningly sweet and gentle, but a little strained as well.

Yzak flashed Georgie a nasty look. "Some act even more stupid and break their noses."

Martha sighed.

Georgie cried.

Yzak got time-out.

And all was well and normal.


Day Four

"We have to find different ways of expressing our anger," Martha advised to the room at large, her voice a little higher than normal. "Let's take…" – her gaze fell on Yzak and she cursed mentally – "Pieter, for example."

Pieter let out a squeak and sank lower into his seat.

"How do you usually act when you lose your temper, Pieter?"

The brown-haired man twiddled his thumbs nervously, and his eyes flitted from face to face. "I, well, I – er…" Martha gave him an encouraging look. "IsortofkillsomeonewhenIgetangry," he blurted out in a rush.

"Pardon? Could you speak more slowly? We didn't quite catch that."

Pieter took a deep breath and spoke slowly this time around. "I sort of kill someone when I get angry."

The smile froze on Martha's face and after realization finally sank in, she began to inch away from Pieter. The others followed suit, scared of the timid man squeaking nervously in front of them. "Really?" Martha swallowed hard. "Just out of curiosity, what ticks you off, Pieter?"

For once, Yzak chose to keep his mouth shut.

But after the threat had passed (after the cops arrested Pieter, that is), Yzak insulted another patient – which resulted in a skirmish…and a few injuries.

So, he got 'time-out' once more.


Day Five


Finally, the day that Yzak had been waiting for! The last day of Anger Management! Now, don't get him wrong, he was still getting a kick out of annoying Martha, but frankly, he missed the Vesalius. He missed Commander Le Creuset's sneers, Miguel's battle stories, Rusty's practical jokes, Nicol's piano-playing, Dearka's cocky smirks and Athrun's…

Nah. He didn't miss Athrun.

At all.

Okay, maybe a bit.

But anyway, this was the day that he would finally pull all the stops and just force Martha to crack. He had everything planned out and just a few choice words would make it all happen. Yzak watched as Martha entered the room. There was a bounce to her every step – she was obviously back to her normal, grating self.

"This is the last day of our Anger Management class and I would just like to say that – "

Yzak cleared his throat, effectively interrupting her.

Martha gave him a forced smile that made her look like her stomach was full of gas. "Yes, Yzak?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Yzak pulled out a sheaf of papers and gave her an evil smirk. "Actually, I'll be staying here for four more weeks. The director asserted that I have made very little progress and would like for you to continue counseling me."

The smile on Martha's face froze and Yzak thought that the woman's face would crack under the pressure. Finally, Martha raised a shaky finger. "Excuse me for a minute." And then, she stomped out of the room, turning left – clearly heading towards the director's office.

After a few minutes, they heard the sound of a door slamming shut followed by muffled screams of a man in agonizing pain and the shrieks of a banshee.

Yzak smirked. 'Good riddance.'

The papers were fake, of course. He had planned it all, deciding that it was the only thing that could make the woman break. What a perfect way to end his 'vacation.' The others were murmuring amongst themselves and Yzak was just about to grab his discharge papers from Martha's table when the door suddenly flew open.

It was Yzak's turn to freeze when he saw who the new-comer was.

Blue hair; green eyes; calm, know-it-all look. "Excuse me, is this…?" Athrun Zala trailed off when he finally caught sight of his teammate. "Yzak?"

"Athrun?" Yzak asked at the same time, face twisted in a scowl. "You're here for Anger Management, as well?"

For the first time in this lifetime, Yzak heard Athrun stutter. "N-not really," the blue-haired boy answered evasively. His lips curled up into a tight, obviously forced smile. "Well, if that's all. I'll be going now. See – " But Athrun never got to finish his sentence as a soft, melodious voice wafted through the room.

"Athrun? Who are you talking to?"

Yzak frowned. "Is that Lacus?" he shot the question at Athrun. Then, putting two and two together…

"Don't tell me…" – Yzak's jaw dropped in shock – "You're here for Marriage Counseling!"


The End.



Hans Eysenck is a real person. He defined behavior therapy as the application of modern learning theory to the treatment of behavioral and emotional disorders.

Psychotherapy is the process of interaction between a therapist and patient aimed at dispelling distress arising through disorders of emotion, thinking, and behavior.

Otolaryngology is thesurgical field concerned with diseases of the head and neck – ears, included.


Final Notes: If you got this far, thanks for reading it! Reviews, as always, are much appreciated. Tell me what part you found funny, and what part you found not-so-funny. Flames will be used by Yzak to burn Martha and Georgie alive. And if anyone reading this is called 'Georgie', I sincerely apologize from the bottom of Yzak's bottomless heart.